


FML

by pepperlandgirl4



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 20:12:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8259185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepperlandgirl4/pseuds/pepperlandgirl4
Summary: "Today, I was making out with my boyfriend and he was fingering me. After he left, my mum says to me "I wish my sex life was as interesting as yours." She had walked in and we hadn't even noticed. FML" Except it's Uther who gets an eyeful.





	

The council chambers door barely closed behind the King before Arthur was gesturing Merlin over to him. 

“What?” Merlin’s nose twitched. “Here?” 

“Yes. Here. The guards won’t let anybody in and while I’m in here. And we’ve got some time before lunch.” 

“Oh, good point. We wouldn’t want to cut into your precious lunch time.” 

“Merlin.” 

The tone of Arthur’s voice told him he had two choices. He could go settle himself on Arthur’s lap or he could go muck out the stables. Merlin didn’t have to think very hard on the problem, and seconds later he was straddling Arthur, thrusting his tongue down Arthur’s throat. Arthur moaned, pressing both hands flat to Merlin’s back, pulling him tight against his chest. It never occurred to Merlin that once he gave Arthur a taste, Arthur would never be able to get enough. Maybe he should have guessed—not that Merlin was complaining. _No_ , Merlin thought as Arthur’s tongue wound around his, _I’m not complaining at all._

“I shouldn’t let you in these meetings anymore,” Arthur said, hands sliding down his back to cup his ass. 

“Why not? I was quiet.” 

“You were distracting.” 

“Mmm.” Merlin hadn’t meant to be distracting. He even made it a point to stand _behind_ Arthur, even. On the other hand, just before they left Arthur’s room, he had made it a point to shove his hand down Arthur’s breeches and fist his cock until he was hard. Arthur had shoved him away rather roughly, but Merlin wore a pleased smile all the way to the meeting, only sobering once in the presence of the King. 

Arthur was hard now, his cock thick against his laces. Merlin could have freed him with a few expert flicks of his wrist, but it was better to grind against him, pushing himself harder and harder against his erection, their mouths fused together. Arthur was an enthusiastic kisser, his tongue demanding, and every second hot and desperate. Arthur kissed him like Merlin was going to be torn away from him, like he hadn’t spent nearly the whole morning with his mouth on Merlin’s body, wringing the most pathetically pleading moans from Merlin’s throat with every flutter of his tongue. 

Arthur tugged at Merlin’s pants with one hand and pushed past the belt with the other. Merlin rose up on his knees automatically, giving Arthur plenty of room to slide his fingers between his cheeks. He stroked and tickled the warm skin until Merlin panted against his mouth, teeth dragging over Arthur’s lips. He felt the prince’s answering smile before the tips of his long fingers teased Merlin’s hole. 

“Let’s see if we can make you come,” Arthur rasped.

“Yes, yes, please. Oh, please do that.” 

“You’re such a slut,” Arthur said affectionately. 

Merlin grunted his agreement, head dropping back, throat clenching as Arthur worked two finger into his channel, which was still slick from the morning’s oil and spit and come. He easily accepted the thickness—could have taken another finger in fact—and rocked back until Arthur’s fingers were buried to his knuckles. Arthur took advantage Merlin’s arched spine, pushing the scarf out of the way with his chin and attacking the taut cords of sinew. Merlin buried his hands in Arthur’s soft hair, mouthing along his brow, nose nudging at the sweat dampened hairline. 

Arthur curled his fingers, pressing against _that spot_. The spot that Arthur had found quite by accident one glorious night, not long after he first took Merlin to his bed. By the time Merlin convinced Arthur to stop, his throat was dry and sore from his shouts, his body was trembling and weak, and he throbbed in a deep, satisfying way. He’d had to take the next day off from most of his duties, but Arthur kept him well occupied with slow, coaxing blowjobs. Arthur pressed a bit harder, but Merlin managed to swallow down his shout. 

Naturally, the prince took that as a challenge. He pumped his hand harder, his blunt nails slamming into that spot until Merlin had no choice but to drop his head to Arthur’s shoulder, muffling the forced cry with Arthur’s thick robe. He bit into the material, rocking ever harder, putting the full weight of his body into it. 

“Look at me,” Arthur ordered, though the words lacked their usual imperious tone. Merlin obeyed him anyway, unlocking his jaw from its silencing hold. Their gazes clashes, and Merlin to wondered if Arthur understood why he whimpered in that second. It had nothing to do with the fingers splitting him open and had everything to do with the dark blue ring around blown irises, the heavy-lidded hunger, the pure desire painted all over Arthur’s sculpted face. 

They moved at the same time, their mouths fusing together, Arthur sliding forward in the chair. Merlin shoved his hand between them, gripping his cock through his breeches and massaging him with all the strength he’d acquired from hauling buckets of water, washing clothes, scrubbing floors, and surviving Arthur’s regular weapons training. Arthur shuddered, hips rolling forward with each squeeze, Merlin’s ass clenching in the same rhythm. Arthur’s lips tasted salty, and Merlin’s head was growing more and more fuzzy. 

“Fuck me tonight,” Merlin begged, wishing he could say _fuck me right now_ , knowing that Arthur wouldn’t go quite that far. Even if they were both trembling and sweating, staining their trousers with spots of pre-come. “After training.” 

“You don’t need to ask.” 

Merlin moaned his approval. He would take Arthur literally anywhere, any way he could get him, but there was something particularly satisfying about it when Arthur was drenched from the weight of his chainmail, smelling of sweat and grass, his body still tight from the excursion. 

The thought was more than enough to light Merlin’s relatively short fuse. The base of his spine tingled as everything—every pleasure and aching need—converged below his waist. His groin tightened, his muscles flexing and fluttering in response. Arthur recognized the signs and curled his fingers again. This new flare of pressure against the tender spot was more than he could bear. His cock jerked painfully against his breeches, his sensitive crown rubbing against the too-rough cloth just before his balls pulled tight and his spine went rigid. He might have shouted Arthur’s name as the bliss spiked through him—his ears were buzzing so loudly he couldn’t tell. 

“You too, Arthur.” Merlin dragged the heel of his hand down Arthur’s shaft. “You too.” 

Arthur’s hips stuttered and he groaned, a hint of warmth spreading beneath Merlin’s hand. Merlin sagged forward, struggling to catch his breath and hoping Arthur would remove his fingers before his cock decided they should have another go before he vacated Arthur’s lap. 

“Now I have to go change.” 

Merlin smiled. “I could help?” 

“No. You can’t help. Then I’ll never make it to training.” 

Merlin’s smile turned into a pout. “You’re the one who started this.” 

“Don’t look at me like that. Give me one good reason to trust you.” 

Arthur had meant _give me one good reason to trust you to help me change my pants without distracting me with inappropriate touching_ , but that’s not quite what Merlin heard. He pasted on his brave smile and slowly rocked forward, easing away from Arthur’s hand. “I am capable of being near you without jumping you. Remember the last two years.” 

Arthur grimaced, like mention of Merlin not jumping him for the past two years was a truly distasteful topic of discussion. “Yeah, but you wanted to. I could tell.” 

Merlin blinked. “You could?” 

“No. But now I know the truth, don’t I? Now get off me.” 

Merlin stood on shaky legs, gripping the table while he rearranged his clothes. His gaze naturally went to Arthur’s crotch when he stood, and he unconsciously licked his lips. “I don’t think anybody would even notice. Especially after you put on your chainmail.” 

“I’m not going to train with come drying all over me.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because it’s…uncomfortable.” 

“If you don’t change now, I’ll make sure you’re good and clean later.” It wasn’t that Merlin cares whether or not Arthur wore different trousers, but he always loved the thought of Arthur being dirty. Maybe because he insisted on so damned many baths. Or because his floors always had to be clean enough to eat off of. Or maybe because if he saw a single, small stain on any of his shirts, Merlin heard about it _all day_. 

Arthur bit his bottom lip and seemed to be genuinely considering the offer. “With your mouth?” 

“Of course with my mouth, you git.” 

“Hey!” 

“Sorry. Prat.” 

“Well…we are running late. Come on. We wouldn’t want to keep the men waiting. They have better things to do than stand around and wait for me.” 

They really didn’t, but Merlin was happy to nod and fall in step behind the prince. He didn’t even acknowledge the guards as he strolled out, and Merlin kept his head down, eyes locked on his feet and fighting a losing battle against the smile trying to break through. 

#

Arthur wasn’t sure Uther had ordered him to the royal chambers for supper, but he hoped it wasn’t for anything important. His mind had been on Merlin since the servant intercepted Arthur to inform him that Uther requested his presence as soon as he changed. He barely had the time to wipe himself with a wet rag, and getting a tongue bath from Merlin was right out. Merlin had taken the disappointment well. He hadn’t even muttered anything treasonous under his breath, which Arthur always considered a good sign. 

“Training went well, I trust.” 

“Of course, Father.” 

“Have you begun preparations for the next tourney?” 

“Yes. I’ve already selected Leon and Bedivere.” 

Uther nodded his approval and lifted his goblet, eyes growing distant as he looked over Arthur’s shoulder. “You know, I wish my sex life was still as interesting as yours.” 

Later, Arthur would swear that Uther chose that precise moment to utter those precise words because he wanted Arthur to choke on his wine. He barely missed suffering that, but only because he spit the red liquid all over his food in sputtering shock. Uther knew about his sex life? How did his father know about his sex life? And how could he wish he _still had_ that sort of sex life? Did that mean….God, Arthur didn’t want to follow that thought to the logical conclusion. 

“What? I don’t…sex life? What?” Not the most eloquent defense of his honor, but he’d been caught flat footed and choking. 

“Oh, Arthur.” Uther waved his hand like it was nothing more than a trifling concern. “I saw you and that servant boy today.” 

“You did?” 

“Yes. In the council chambers.” 

“Oh,” Arthur squeaked. He hadn’t even heard the door open. Everybody in the court could have witnessed them. He felt his cheeks turn what must have been a shade to rival that of his coat. “I…it won’t happen again.” _In such a public place,_ Arthur amended silently, because he wasn’t crazy. He’d never been more humiliated in his life, and a good three-quarters of his brain was already focusing on Merlin again. Who was waiting for him—probably sulking. And naked. His bottom lip sticking out like it did when he was particularly affronted, and Arthur had long since stopped trying to figure out why the sight of it brought him such joy. He probably wouldn’t give Merlin such a hard time if his bottom lip wasn’t so full and…

“Don’t be silly, Arthur. I saw the two of you. This little infatuation will have to burn itself out.” Uther shook his head. “If it ever does. But one thing, Arthur.” 

“Yes, sire?” 

“If you let this servant distract you from any of your duties to Camelot, I will make sure the infatuation burns out much, much quicker. Do you understand me?” 

“Yes, my lord. Of course. And you…don’t mind if…since he’s a boy.” 

Uther lifted his shoulder in a slight shrug. “That only means you won’t be muddling the line with bastards.” 

That sounded reasonable enough to Arthur. “Thank you, father. May I be excused?” 

Uther inclined his head, and Arthur was up like a shot, more than ready to quit the awkward conversation and the Merlin-less room. He almost escaped without further trauma when Uther chuckled and added, “Have a good night.” 

Arthur suppressed his shudder of embarrassment, quite convinced that the whole night was completely ruined due to that comment. Until Merlin shoved him against the closed door, pushed the bolt through, and claimed Arthur’s mouth in a hard kiss that wasn’t the least bit sulky, at which point he forgot he’d ever had a conversation with Uther.


End file.
